Hands-On
by melissaeverdeen13
Summary: April has apparently always had the tendency to walk in on Jackson during his alone-time.


I push open the door with my back, an overflowing bag of groceries in each arm. With the keys in my mouth, I let out a sigh and set the bags on the counter, leaning forward to catch my breath after putting down the heavy weight.

"Damn," I breathe, pulling some of the groceries out.

Jackson texted me a little while ago asking when I was going to be home and if I'd need help bringing the groceries in when I got here. I gave him a loose time, and told him that I could bring them in on my own. I regret saying that now, because the milk and the beer were a lot heavier than I anticipated. But at least it's all inside now.

I take my purse and shoes off, heading further inside the very quiet house. It's almost strangely quiet. Jackson had no plans to go anywhere, but he isn't in the living room, kitchen, or the bathroom.

The only conclusion I come to is that he must be taking a nap. I walk casually down the hall to see if I'm right, then hear strange sounds coming from behind our closed bedroom door. I stop in my tracks and study it, wondering why it would be closed in the first place. We never close it, seeing as there's not really a reason to. And the sounds are even more puzzling; it sounds like he's struggling with something.

I tip my head to the side and squint, listening further. I'm wrong, he's not struggling with something. I know those sounds. Those are the sounds he makes when nearing climax - they're unmistakable.

My face heats up as I wonder if someone is in there with him, and I act out of instinct and barge in after throwing the door open.

"Fuck!" he bellows, jumping half a foot with fumbling hands. When I look closer, I see that his dick is out and it's extremely hard. "April, what the hell are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" I ask, lingering in the doorway with one hand still on the knob.

"God!" he says, trying to tuck himself away with great difficulty. He ends up being successful, but the bulge in his pants stands between us like a third person in the room. "I was…god. Jesus, April…"

"Is this why you asked when I'd be home?" I ask, staring at him with hard eyes.

"Why are you treating me like a criminal?" he says. "I was jacking off, I was thinking about you!"

"I was gone for an hour," I say. "You couldn't wait?"

"I'm only human," he says. "Why are you condemning me?"

I frown, feeling something burst in my chest. "Because!" I say. "I don't know why you'd use your hand when your wife is right here."

He sighs and glances between his legs. I look there, too. I can't help it.

"Do you wanna finish that up," I mutter, popping my weight over to one hip.

"Are you gonna stand there and watch me?" he snaps.

"Jackson," I say, rolling my eyes. I'm at a loss - I'm upset with him for resorting to masturbation while we're married, but I still want to prove it to him that the real thing will always be better.

"Look, I don't have to," he says. "I'll just get in the shower. It'll go away."

"No," I say, stepping forward. "You want me to do it?"

He gives me a funny look and says, "Seriously? I thought you were pissed."

"I'm pissed that you used your hand over me," I say, coming even closer. "I'm your wife."

"Baby," he says, gently.

"No," I say, looking to the side. "I'm mad. Don't be nice to me."

He snorts and relaxes against the headboard, opening his arms. "Come here."

I flash him a fake-pouty look and climb onto his lap, his erection slipping between my ass cheeks over my leggings. I rub against it on purpose and place my hands on his shoulders, rubbing his collarbones with my thumbs.

"Don't tell me you've never rubbed one out while I'm not here," he says.

"I haven't," I insist, skimming my hands downward. "You always do it for me."

He looks at me, tipping his chin up to shoot me a half smile. "I couldn't wait. I started thinking about last night… and how much you like butt stuff when you're drunk."

My eyes widen. "Stop," I whisper, smacking him playfully.

"Is it a lie, though?" he says, moving his hands to cup my ass and squeeze it.

"It was your idea," I say, scratching my fingernails gently over his facial hair.

"Not last night, it wasn't," he says. "You wanted me to put it in your butt so bad."

"Okay, stop," I say, wide-eyed.

"Who's gonna hear?" he asks.

"This," I say, and reach between us to get a good grip on his hard-on.

"Jesus," he says. "You gotta warn me before you do that."

I run my thumb over the head through his sweatpants, and he presses his lips together from the feeling. I smile to myself, proud over what I'm able to do, and keep the motion going.

"Do you jack off a lot when I'm not here?" I ask.

"Sometimes," he says, letting his head fall back to rest against the headboard. "But what's a man to do when his wife's on his mind and she's not home?"

"Wait," I say, leaning forward to tuck my face into his neck. "Be patient for once."

"Impossible," he says. "I'm all about instant gratification. You know that."

"I know…" I say, slipping both hands between us to pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. "But I'm here now."

He laughs breathily. "You gonna finish me off, then?"

"Of course I am," I say, then pull his pants down as far as I need them to go.

His erection springs out as soon as I do, and I lock eyes with him - mine glinting. "You're so bad," he says, shaking his head. "Everyone thinks you're just innocent little April, but I know better."

"Lucky you," I say, flattening my palm to spit on it. He lifts his hips and groans when I grip him, and I move up and down the shaft slowly while staring at the head. "You really got yourself worked up, didn't you?" I ask.

He smiles weakly. "Told you I was thinking about last night."

"Mmm…" I say, leaning forward with my free hand flat on his thigh.

"Maybe we should just reenact it," he says.

"No," I whisper, lips moving against his ear. I feel the chills that rise because of it. "I'm too sober."

He laughs and says, "Damn it."

"Just sit back and relax, honey," I say, getting comfortable on his legs.

"How can I relax when your ass bones are digging into me," he murmurs, closing his eyes.

I snort. "Be quiet."

I continue to work him with my hand, then lean forward and surprise him by wrapping my lips around the head. His hips jolt up and I take more of him in my mouth with a devious expression on my face, and he smirks while burying his fingers in my hair.

"Atta girl," he says, massaging my scalp.

I lick all the way from the bottom to the top, and he moans deep in his throat. "Jesus," he hisses, holding my hair tighter.

While still pumping with one hand, I straighten my spine and kiss him hard on the lips. He holds my neck with both hands and pulls me closer, thumbs tracing my jaw, and I feel his dick start to pulse.

"You're so close," I mutter.

"Mm-hmm," he says. "I was close when you got here."

"Should I keep you away from it for a little bit?" I ask, coyly. I trace the underside of his dick with the tip of my pointer finger, licking my lower lip. "Should I edge you like you edge me?"

"No," he says, eyes gleaming with trouble. "God, don't torture me, baby."

"But I want to," I say, reaching down to massage his balls.

"You're evil," he says.

"No…" I reply, moving to suck on his earlobe. I twist my wrist and pump him harder, then remove my hand entirely. "Okay. Maybe a little."

He groans again and gets a good hold around my waist, pulling me closer. If I weren't wearing pants, I'm sure he would already be inside me by now. But luckily, I have the upper hand.

"You know what today reminded me of?" I ask, flattening both hands on either side of his dick to stroke him up and down.

"What, baby."

I laugh softly and trace one fingernail around his nipple, which drives him absolutely crazy.

"What, baby…" he whines.

"When we were living in the frat house," I say. "And I walked in on you."

"Oh, fuck," he says, pinching his eyes shut. "Why is this a trend with you?"

 **THE RESIDENT DAYS - FRAT HOUSE**

"Seriously, Kepner. I can't listen to your whiny-ass bitching anymore. Go find your fuck buddy and ask him to help you instead."

I glower at Alex, who's sitting across from me on the couch. I can't believe I had a crush on him at one point. He's probably the rudest person to walk the planet.

"He's not my…" I let out a sigh of frustration. "Don't call him that."

"I forgot, he can't be your fuck buddy because you're still a virgin," he says. "You wouldn't know a friend with benefits if it slapped you in the face."

"I'm leaving now," I say, storming off the couch and taking my flashcards with me. "See if I give you any help once the boards get closer. Don't count on it!"

"Don't count on it," he mimics in a high, annoying voice. "Go find someone else to bother, Kepner."

"Urgh!" I roll my eyes and stomp towards the stairs, headed to do exactly what he suggested - find Jackson. My study buddy. Not… my other kind of buddy.

Although - and I'd never admit this out loud to anyone - I've been seeing him differently lately. When we first moved here, he was like an annoying brother. Now, he is _definitely_ not like a brother. I find myself staring at him when I shouldn't be. And thinking about him when I… really shouldn't be.

It doesn't help that he's so open and immodest about his body. He gets out of the shower completely naked every day, usually while I'm still in the bathroom. I always avert my eyes, but lately I've had the urge to look. I always fight it, though. I'm not a creep.

I don't feel much like studying anymore, so I throw the materials on my bed and walk back into the hall towards Jackson's room. As I get closer, though, I hear weird sounds. Sounds I've never heard him make before. It almost sounds like he's in pain, or really struggling with something. He's grunting and moaning, and an alarming feeling bubbles up in my stomach. What if he needs help?

"Jackson?" I say, raising my hand to knock on the door. It comes out much softer than I intended, though, and he doesn't respond. That's when I start to get worried. "Jackson…?" Still nothing.

So, I do what I have to do. I wrap my fingers around the knob and push it open slowly, peering my head in to find something I did not expect. He's lying flat in the middle of his bed, totally naked, one hand wrapped around his penis while he strokes it quick and forceful. His teeth are gritted, forehead creased, and I happen to be watching the moment where everything unfolds. I can't look away, and he doesn't realize I'm there. His eyes are closed, and his mind is somewhere far away.

Clearish-white liquid spurts out from the head of his penis in powerful bursts, some dripping down its length and some making it all the way to his stomach. I gasp as his face slackens and his breathing comes slower, and when he opens his eyes he realizes my presence for the first time.

"April!" he bellows, scrambling to cover himself.

I'm frozen. I have no idea what to think. I've never seen a man ejaculate before in my life, and there was something strangely beautiful about it. My thighs are quivering. My body is hot. I need to get out of here, but I can't move.

"What the hell! How long have you - April!"

"I-I-I-I'm sorry!" I exclaim, backing up with clumsy steps. "I'm going now. I gotta go. I'll… I'll leave you to it. I'm sorry, sorry!"

I turn my back and practically sprint back to my own room, where I slam the door and stand with my back pressed against it. I lock it for good measure, because I don't think I could handle seeing his face right now after everything else I just saw of him.

"Oh, my god," I breathe, chest heaving. My face must be beet-red, because it's flaming hot. I press the backs of my hands to my cheeks to try and calm down, but it doesn't do much good. "Oh, my god."

I move away from the door after triple-checking that it's locked, and go to sit down on the edge of my bed. I can't stop picturing what he looked like - so euphoric, so blissed out, like everything was right in the world. It seemed to feel so good.

He made me want to feel that way, too. Seeing him like that gave me the urge to have _him_ make me feel that way.

I shake my head as soon as the thought comes inside. He's my best friend. It's wrong to think of him like that. Totally wrong.

But I find myself stripping my pants anyway, leaving myself in a loose t-shirt with a bralette under it. I take care of my underwear, too, folding them in a neat pile on top of my jeans on the chair by the dresser. I lick my lips, feeling nervous, and make my way back to the bed after checking for the fourth time that the door is locked.

I lay down on my back first, but that feels wrong. I don't do this often. I can't even remember the last time I did, or if I even… got anywhere with it. But this time, I'm determined to get a result. I feel so close already. Seeing him like that lit something inside me.

I turn onto my side and slip a hand lower, moving my t-shirt to the side. I spread my legs to let my fingers in, and trace my lips before doing anything else. I'm not familiar with this part of my body, though I know I should be at my age. Maybe this is my chance to get acquainted.

It's hot when I slip one finger inside, and when two go, I lose my breath. I move them around a bit, trying to find what feels good, and pick up a steady rhythm while pushing them in and pulling almost all the way back out.

I imagine it's him. Jackson's penis, coming in and out of me, instead of my fingers. I can't help it. It only pushes me closer to the inevitable.

With a cloudy mind, I flip onto my stomach and work my hips against my hand. I close my eyes and picture his face while he came, spurting that liquid all over himself. I want it all over my body instead, and I don't even have it within me to shame myself for thinking that. I'm too far gone now, too caught up in the way I'm making myself feel.

"Mmmm…" I moan, but I keep quiet with my face pressed into the pillow. I don't want anyone hearing my sounds like I heard his. I don't need even more ridicule in this house.

When it happens, my mouth falls open and my entire body shakes involuntarily. The feeling doesn't go away for a long time, and my hips keep pumping against my hand of their own accord. When I finally come down, I'm spent. My hand is sticky, my body is tired, and my heart is racing.

I feel so good.

I turn onto my back and just lie there for a minute, embarrassed of everything I thought of while in the heat of the moment. I thought about Jackson having sex with me. I thought about his penis inside me. I thought about his semen all over my skin.

I can't believe my mind went there. I never knew I had the propensity to think those kinds of thoughts.

A few moments later, there's a soft knock on my door and my heart practically leaps out of my chest. "One second!" I call, scrambling to pull my underwear back on. Instead of my jeans, I go for a pair of athletic shorts instead. "Come in."

"Uh, it's locked."

"Oh."

I get up and unlock the door to find Jackson standing there, fully dressed now, looking ashamed. He's rubbing the back of his head, which is a telltale sign he's uncomfortable, and he won't look at me.

Not like I'd know. There's no way I'm able to look at him after all I just thought about.

"Uh… hey," he says.

"Hi," I reply, and for a moment we just stand there in the doorway. That is, until I back up and welcome him inside my room. I sit on the edge of the bed and pat the spot next to me, but only after looking back to make sure there's no wet spot on the duvet. Luckily, there's not.

Still, though, I didn't get a chance to clean myself up. My core is still slippery and wet, and even though I know it's unrealistic, I can't help but feel that he knows.

"Sorry for… what you saw," he says, still staring at the floor. "I'm pretty much dying. I didn't hear you, and… I'm sure it messed you up… I probably scarred you for life, and I'm sorry."

"I'm fine," I say, looking the other way. I don't want him to see the blush on my face. "It's fine. You're human. I should've… I should've waited. I just thought… the sounds. I didn't know."

"I didn't know I was that loud," he says. "Great."

"It wasn't that… you weren't that loud," I say. "I just got worried. But I shouldn't have been so nosy."

"Curiosity killed the cat," he says.

"But satisfaction brought it back," I finish, very quietly.

"What?" he says.

I sit up straight, spine snapping to attention. "Oh, nothing," I say. "Nothing. I'm… I'm fine. You're sweet for coming to apologize. But I'm fine. You're a boy. Doing boy things."

He chuckles. "Yeah. You ever…" He clears his throat. "Do girls…?"

"No," I answer vehemently, immediately. "No, no."

"Yeah," he says. "Didn't think so."

 **PRESENT DAY**

"I lied to you that day," I say, dismounting only to get my pants off. When I straddle him again, my lower half is completely bare. I don't want to mess around anymore.

"What do you mean?" he says, palming my ass. "C'mere. Closer."

"I mean…" I say, lifting my knees and lowering so he sinks inside me. "Oh… Jesus. Yes. Hold on."

He slaps the side of my ass, which makes an dizzy smile appear on my face. "Dick so good she forgot how to speak," he says.

"Mmm," I moan, rocking forward to find a good rhythm and position. "I lied to you… I told you I didn't masturbate. But I did."

"What?" he says. "Even back then? You're shitting me."

"I did," I say, winding my arms around his neck and pushing my hips forward. "I had actually just finished before you came in."

"Nuh-uh…" he says, holding my waist tighter.

"Yes," I say. "Know what I was thinking about?"

He smiles and kisses me, then prompts me to answer with raised eyebrows. "What?"

I kiss him back, hard and confident. "You."


End file.
